


Scarred Knight

by PilgrimKitty



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Dominance, F/M, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 11:32:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilgrimKitty/pseuds/PilgrimKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maeve tends to Harry after he receives yet another injury. (Set after Ghost Story, so beware of spoilers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scarred Knight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Patrick_Diomedes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patrick_Diomedes/gifts).



> This is for the "scars/Scarification" square on my kink bingo card. It's set post "Ghost Story," but no real spoilers for that, but there are definite spoilers for "Changes." This is Maeve's POV, so don't assume her opinions of Dresden are my own. :)

It wasn't the worst injury that Maeve had seen Dresden earn, but it looked painful. The fight had been short, and Harry had won, but the agent of Summer had managed to tear a chunk from Harry's left shoulder before he had killed it. Now the battle was over, and Maeve had brought him back to her place in Undertown. She took Harry back to her room, where there was a big, beautiful bed with a soft blue down-filled duvet covering it, and ordered the rest of her court to leave them.

“Take off your shirt, my Knight,” the Winter Lady ordered, “So I may tend to your wound.”

Dresden replied with a snarky comment, but Maeve wasn't listening to his words. She rarely listened unless he was trying to trick truth from her. He nattered on so much, he could be quite tedious. Still, he was a good Knight, and strong, and she was glad her mother allowed her use of him. He took off his shirt and sat on the bed, while she gathered some clean linen to dress the wound.

“This may scar for a while, but you are a wizard, it will heal without a trace in time,” She said.

“Not exactly news,” Harry replied.

Maeve straddled him, sitting over his lap as she studied the torn flesh oozing blood. She rested one hand on his whole shoulder and lowered her face to the wound slowly. He was the Winter Knight, so a queen of Winter would be able to heal him easily. His skin was so warm under her cold touch, as was the blood leaking from his flesh. It smelled like copper and warmth and humanity and magic. She reached out her tongue and lapped at the blood.

“'s cold,” Dresden complained.

“Always whinging, Dresden,” the Lady replied. “Take the balm I offer and shut up.”

“Yes, my Lady,” Harry replied. Not meekly, but not combative either. He'd lost a decent amount of blood and was likely lethargic. Some intimate time with the Winter Lady would energize and revitalize the Winter Knight.

Maeve lapped at the wound, tiny threads of her power leaving through her cold saliva, and knitting the flesh together. She cleaned the wound with her tongue, tasting his rich blood and leaving a pink layer of new skin behind. After she finished, she pulled her head back to study her work. The linen might not be needed after all. She felt Dresden's arousal from the contact beneath her, and she wiggled slightly, causing friction through two layers of pants. 

“You'll heal,” Maeve said. She stroked over the new skin, and felt the puckered scar of a bullet wound beneath the new wound. “You've been shot here before.”

“Mmm,” Dresden confirmed, his eyes closed and head slung slightly back as he felt the contact and drew pleasure from it.

Maeve studied Dresden's chest. A long scar went across his torso and she licked across it.

“Tingles,” Harry said, almost drunkenly, as he shivered.

“What caused this wound?” Maeve asked.

“Denarian. Decided to go rooting around in my innards.”

Maeve rubbed her cheek briefly against his chest hair before licking the long scars again. It was if somebody had drawn a clumsy picture across his torso. There were other scars there, smaller marks here and there, the causes most likely forgotten. Maeve kissed and licked each scar.

“And these?” She asked, kissing over the burnt flesh on his left hand, before pressing a gentle kiss against the unblemished skin in the center of his palm.

“Renfield with a flamethrower.” His face wrinkled in a memory, but Maeve ignored it. He was a map of interesting marks and she wanted to learn them all. He was her Knight, she had a duty to learn every inch of him.

“And these?” she asked, before licking down the scars on his face, going across his forehead, cheek and chin.

“Bitchy wizard with a knife,” Dresden said, his eyes open again as he stared at her mouth.

Maeve pressed her lips against his, feeling his warmth and tasting his humanness. He was so lovely in his way. She pressed her tongue against his lips and they parted, allowing it entrance. She tasted him, relishing as he shivered, chilled from his contact with her cool skin. It wouldn't do to give the man frostbite, so she concentrated on raising her own body temperature. Not too uncomfortable for a queen of the Sidhe, but not her usual state of being. She was still cooler than him, but he didn't shiver so much as she straddled him, holding him close. His right hand moved to the back of her head, tangling in her multi-colored dreadlocks. She moaned as he tugged on them slightly.

“Lay back on the bed, my Knight,” Maeve ordered as she broke the contact and climbed off of him gracefully.

“Is it weird that I've fucked your mother?” Harry asked, following her instructions. He was obviously trying to rattle her and throw her off-guard, but it wouldn't work.

“Please, child, _she_ fucked _you_. As I will. Don't pretend you'd ever have the stones to _top_.” 

Harry scowled at that and Maeve smiled to herself, remembering that Dresden held to that odd human idea that men should always be the dominant ones. As if Harry Dresden could ever have the competency to bed a submissive woman. 

Maeve unlaced Harry's boots, one then the other, before pulling them off. She wrinkled her nose slightly at the pungent smell of his dirty socks. These humans and their sweat. It was pleasant to lick off of them, but the odor wasn't as nice. She pulled those off him as well, before moving to undo his belt. She slid it through the loops, feeling the leather in her hands and briefly entertaining the idea of hitting him with it. But this encounter was to strengthen him, not to remind him of his place. She would save that for another day.

Maeve undid Harry's black jeans, and slid them down his legs. She pulled them off and then repeated the motion with his underwear. There was another puckered bullet wound at his hip, and she licked the flesh there.

“This one is almost entirely faded,” she remarked.

“It's the oldest,” Harry told her. “Way back when I fought the Shadowman.” 

He was naked now, save for his pentacle amulet. She saw another scar on his calf and caressed the skin there before tasting that one as well. She said nothing, this time, but he filled her in anyway.

“Crazy ghoul with a throwing star,” Harry answered her unasked question.

Maeve toured her Knight's body, pressing her tongue and lips to every mark and blemish on his skin. He was tall and fit, but quite skinny. He was lean whipcord muscle, not a physical bruiser. Her study of his body was causing obvious reaction on his cock, which was fully hard and leaking. She avoided it a few moments longer. 

Maeve lowered her head to Dresden's chest and sucked a nipple into her mouth, pleased by the happy noise he made. She worried it with her tongue for a moment before repeating the action on the other side. She kissed down his chest again, paying more attention to the scars there, then followed the trail of hair down to his groin. He began an annoying string of babble that Maeve ignored as she stroked his cock once, before stepping away and removing her own clothes.

She mounted him, and he hissed as her cool wetness engulfed his hot cock. She allowed a smile to grace her features and she pick up his hands and placed them on her breasts. He squeezed with almost adequate pressure as she began to ride him. She increased her pace as she ordered her Knight to run his jagged, uneven nails down her back. He never remembered to clip them and she enjoyed the feeling of it on her back. She rode him at a fast pace, feeling his hot cock inside her. The average human might not be able to keep up with her, but he was the Winter Knight. Every moment of their coupling rejuvenated and strengthened him. 

He hit his peak and she felt the hot liquid inside her as Dresden's back lifted off the bed, his hands tangling in her hair and his lips claiming hers in a kiss. She did not strike him for presuming to kiss without permission—though she might in the future—instead she answered him hungrily. Her own peak happened during the kiss, as Dresden delivered a deliciously painful tug to her hair, pushing her over the edge. Maeve was catlike in her yowl of pleasure.

When they were finished, she dismounted the man, and took a moment to lick up any lost fluids. She did not know if she had taken with child with the man, but if not there was always time to try again. A changeling of Dresden's would be a lovely pawn to keep the Knight in line, as well as a wonderful pupil to turn into a warrior. Especially if it had a Wizard's talent. She had always hoped she would get her hands on Dresden's issue, though he seemed to have forgotten the long ago conversation.

Dresden lay sated on the bed, and Maeve covered him with the blue down comforter. Her Knight would recover soon.

“Sleep now, my Knight,” she said, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Later we will have more debts to collect, more accounts to settle.” She stroked his face, almost tenderly, as he drifted to sleep, before rising from her own bed to accomplish some work that needed to be done.

*!*


End file.
